


Don't Know Why

by MissLuci



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Resolution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:20:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24685243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissLuci/pseuds/MissLuci
Summary: Takes place during AtS episode, The Girl in Question.  Spike does not believe that the girl they saw with The Immortal is actually Buffy and he confronts Andrew before giving Angel a piece of his mind.
Relationships: Angel/Spike (BtVS), Spike/Buffy Summers
Kudos: 27





	Don't Know Why

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended, just giving and showing love to the Buffyverse.  
> Not Beta'd, so mistakes are all ME! Please let me know and I will fix them.

After the fight that destroyed his beloved duster and the subsequent meetings at the Rome branch of Wolfram and Hart in which he was given a new coat with gratitude for a job well done, he felt prepared to face the real truth about Buffy. 

Ignoring protests from Angel that they leave Rome and return to LA as soon as possible, Spike stomped back to the apartment to confront Andrew. The little twerp had given them information that Buffy was in a relationship with an immortal, THE Immortal. Wanker….. 

Spike knew that what Andrew had told them was not the whole truth. When the grand pouf insisted on dragging a morose and half sloshed Spike out to the club mentioned by Wee Willie Wells, the glimpses Spike had gotten of the girl dancing with The Immortal didn’t click. He didn’t ‘feel’ her. Spike had ALWAYS been able to sense Buffy. The girl at the club didn’t move like her either, not quite. There was just something ‘off’ and he wasn’t leaving Rome until he talked to Andrew again.

Spike banged loudly and waited at least five seconds before banging again and yelling. “If you don’t open this sodding door right now, I’m gonna kick it down!”

“Spike?” he heard Andrew squeak. “Um, hey, yeah, give me a minute and I’ll be, um….”

“NOW!” Spike thundered.

A few doors opened along the corridor and quickly shut as Spike glared in their direction.

A moment later, a disheveled looking Andrew opened the door. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company this fine evening?” Andrew asked, nervously wringing his hands.

Spike pushed past him and began pacing in the small living/dining room, noting the stack of comic books on the table and a small pile of what looked to be plastic dolls next to them. Remembering Andrew’s affinity for the small figurines and knowing this must be a new set he was collecting, as his previous collection was buried in a pile of ruble formerly known as Sunnydale, Spike reached down and grabbed a fistful of the toys. 

“Spill it! I want the truth about the slayer or you start your nerd doll collection over again.”

“Oh please, NO! I just got the Jawa, and his cape is only slightly torn. He’s worth a small fortune. Please, Spike!”

“Gonna ask One. More. Time. Where is Buffy? Don’ give me some rot about her love life. Know it wasn’t her, don't I?”

“I shouldn't....she's....Spike, please….” 

Spike closed his fist and a small cracking sound escaped from between his knuckles. “OK!!!!!!! OK, I’ll tell you what I know, I swear! Just please put down the Jawa.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Buffy had no idea why she was even entertaining such thoughts of the absurd. 

There was no way the vampires she had heard about could be Angel and Spike. Well, it might have been Angel, and it was exactly like him to show up in the city she was living in and not even call, but Spike, no way! He could never stay away, but what if he was back and he did, and what did THAT mean? 

It couldn’t be him anyway. He would never work with Angel, and besides…..

Tears sprang to her eyes as she recalled the last time she’d seen him, soul blazing at the mouth of hell, full on hero mode, saving the world, changing hers forever. 

She had said those three words to Spike at the end and as she said them, she wasn’t sure they were completely true yet. But, with everything going on at that moment, they didn't have any more time, so she blurted it out, "I love you, Spike." She said it thinking it would break his hold on the amulet, make him want to drop it and run with her, make him want to live. Give them a chance. She said it knowing there may be no other time to tell him. His response nearly broke her, and it took everything inside her not to stay and argue with him, but some small part of her knew he might be right, but she COULD….soon. She just needed a little more time. He’d given her more in the way of unconditional love and support in the year before. Spike was the one who made her believe in herself when she doubted everything. He was the one standing beside her all the way to the end. In the time that had passed since he’d closed the Hellmouth, she had come to realize the truth of her simple three word declaration and wished beyond anything that she could have come to that realization sooner. As it was, she lived with grief every day. Grief of knowing he died not believing her and the very big grief of missing him and his strong, never silent, presence. Most nights, she would lay snuggled up with a pillow and remember how it felt to be held by him those final days, wishing she’d had the courage to open herself up to him once again. Some nights, she would dream of him and wake up with tears still wet on her cheeks. 

Taking a big steadying breath, Buffy stepped from the elevator on the 4th floor of Wolfram and Hart, Rome division, she smoothed her hands across her pants and stepped with more confidence than she felt, into the inner sanctum of the largest demon law firm in Italy to try to find out the answer to her crazy question.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“But I had heard of a couple vampires helping out with a mission recently and they fit the description….” Buffy trailed off as once again her inquiries were met with a stern face and crossed arms.

“Miss Summers, you were there when William the Bloody burned up closing the Sunnydale Hellmouth, were you not?” The lawyer asked her point blank.

A hot, hollow feeling tore through Buffy as the words hit her like a sword through the heart. “Yes, but, sometimes things aren’t as they seem, my years as a slayer have taught me…”

“Your years as a slayer have been highly productive, that is true, but apparently they didn’t teach you that you can’t change cold hard facts. Spike is gone and Angel is the head of operations in Los Angeles. End of story. What you are hearing must be false rumors.”

Again, his words were like a slap and Buffy recoiled. “Yes, I suppose you're right.” 

“I will have Giovanni see you out. Thank you for your visit, please call the next time you wish to speak with us and I will have more time. Goodbye.” 

Buffy stepped into the elevator and lowered her head, suddenly very interested in her shoes and hiding the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. It's not like she thought it really WAS Spike, but for a small moment she’d allowed herself to hope. Glancing around the floor of the elevator, Buffy spied a small piece of what looked like black leather wedged in the corner nearly buried under what seemed to be a loose tile. She reached down to pick it up just as the elevator jerked to a stop causing the leather to jerk free and Buffy to lose her balance and land on her butt right as the door opened into the lobby. She sat on the floor stunned, but not because of the rough landing. She was staring at her hand that was clenching the quarter sized piece of leather in a tight fist. It was vibrating in her palm, the reverberations distinctly vampiric, distinctly Spike!

“Miss, are you ok?” Giovanni offered her his hand.

“Fine, I’m fine.” Buffy said in a shaky voice, standing on her own, disregarding Giovanni's outstretched hand.. “I’m just….fine.” she muttered as she left the building, wondering how in the world a piece of what she was sure was Spike’s duster could have made it to a demon law firm halfway around the globe.

\------------------------------------------------------------

After leaving Andrew’s apartment, Spike took a cab to the airport. On the way, he mulled over the things he’d been told. No, Buffy wasn’t in any kind of relationship, Andrew had lied to protect Buffy. When Spike had asked him why lying would protect her, Andrew went silent and it took some serious persuasion to get him to talk again. Even tearing a few pages from one of the comic books on the table hadn’t made him talk. It was only after Spike threatened to pull the legs off some weird looking green monster with a garden hose for a nose that Andrew spoke up again and admitted to Spike that Buffy had been in mourning since the Hellmouth closed and she was only recently starting to perk up a bit. When Spike asked what that had to do with the lies he’d been told, Andrew admitted that a great deal of her sadness had to do with the loss of Spike. 

He remembered what she’d told him as his soul flamed from his chest. He’d wanted to believe her, but was sure she hadn’t meant the words. It was nice to hear, but there was no way she could truly love a monster like him, was there? After hearing what Andrew had to say, he began to wonder if there was truth in her words and he knew there was only one way to find out.

He scanned the ticket he didn’t plan on using so he could make his way down the concourse. He hoped to catch Angel before the plane departed, to let him know he was staying in Rome for an indeterminate amount of time. The flight left at 7:00 am when the sun was beginning to rise. Perfect timing, meant they would land in LA late afternoon and by the time they got through customs, it would be dark. He could see Angel’s bulky form, shoulders hunched, far away from the other passengers beginning to board the plane. He looked up to scan his surroundings and saw Spike sauntering towards him.

“There you are! I was starting to wonder if you’d gotten yourself dusted.” Angel exclaimed. “Hey, that coat looks exactly like your old one.”

“Doesn’t feel the same, does it?. Stiff and smells weird.” Spike wrinkled his nose, still unused to the strong scent of new leather, missing his old coat that smelled not only of leather, but of smoke, alcohol and history. It was going to take some time to get used to this new one. Spike shoved his hands deep into the pockets. “I’m gonna pass on heading back to LA right now.” He glanced at the ground and shuffled his feet a bit.

“You know it’s best for Buffy if we just leave. She seems happy, we saw her dancing…”

Spike barked back before he could think, “WASN’T HER!”

Angel looked startled for a moment, then recovered, “It sure looked like her to me, you’re deluding yourself if you think…”

“You’re the one who’s delusional! I know the slayer and that was NOT her. Couldn't sense her, could I?”

“That doesn’t mean it wasn’t her. Spike, she is better off without either of us. I made the choice to leave her so she could have a better life, you should do the same. She never even has to know you came back.”

“See, that’s the thing LIAM, you never fought to keep her, you never did anything to change yourself to become the man she deserves. You left because it was easier for YOU! You are selfish, and when things got a bit too hard, you disappeared from her life, showing up in bits and pieces, enough to remind her you were alive, but never even trying to BE THERE for her.”

He began pacing, the duster billowing out around his legs as he ranted at Angel, 

“Were you there when her mom was sick, or did you just show up at the end and say you were sorry? Joyce was….I loved her….and…..” Spike trailed off, then shook his head and began again. 

“Where were you when she died fighting a Hellgod? Did you see her broken body before you, knowin’ she was gone? Feelin’ your gut shred itself in pain and your unbeating heart explode with grief? Wonderin’ if you could have done more, fought harder, been faster? “ Spike sucked in a deep breath. “I was there, Angelus, ME, woulda done anything to have saved her, tried and failed, broke my heart, wanted to dust myself, but I stayed, for her, for a promise., for Dawn. Nibblet needed people around to help her. I didn't see your giant forehead showing up! Hundred forty seven days…... Didn’t show up, didja? Where were you when Buffy came back from Heaven and was lost and confused? She clawed her way from the grave...just like us, did ya ever think a that? Ever wonder what that mighta done to ‘er? Tried to be what she needed, whatEVER she needed, didn't I? Yeah, we messed up, both of us, and I snapped, was confused, not really knowing myself for a moment, but I stopped, realized what I’d done, left her and found a way to try to be what she deserved. Fought for my soul so I’d be a better man. For her. I came back, crazy. She fought to save me when no one else believed I was worth anything. I stood by her, and fought with her and fought FOR her and when it came down to you or me, she chose me. She may have kissed you, but she CHOSE me and I died feeling her fingers wrapped in mine, seeing her face smilin’, with tears in those beautiful eyes, and her words ringing in my ears. She told me she loved me.” Spike choked on a sob before he could continue. 

“Now, I’m here, knowing she’s been missing me, I’m giving HER the choice, ain’t I? She can say she never wants to see me again, tell me to go to hell, I’ll do anything she wants, but I’m giving her that choice. I’m done listening to YOU tell me it’s better for her if I never see her again. Why’re you so worried about what she’s gonna to say once she knows I’m still alive? Worried she’ll choose me again?”

Angel stood staring at Spike mouth gaping open like a fish out of water. “She really said she loves you?”

“Yeah, is that so hard to believe?”

“Well, actually, yes, I’m her true love.” Angel replied.

Spike snorted, “Really? Well, how many times has she called YOU since Sunnyhell imploded? She misses you so much, needs her ‘great pouf of a lover’ so badly, she’s been pouring her heart out to you?”

“Um… well, not exactly, but our love is more of a fairy tale, like a great romance....”

“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that! Girl needs a partner, someone to laugh with, spar with, stand with her and fight beside her then shag her silly afterwards, not some fairy tale lonely beast in a castle kind of rot.”

“But Spike, don’t you see, she should have a normal relationship, with a normal guy.”

“Newsflash Peaches! Slayer will NEVER be normal and I’ll let HER decide what she needs.” Spike looked up to see the flight attendant motioning to the few remaining passengers. “You’re gonna miss your flight, then you’ll have to wait another day ‘cuz Mr. Sun will be up afore ya know it and turning into a pile of ash if your seatmate decides to raise the window to take a gander at the beautiful Italian sunrise is probably not on your agenda today.”

Angel stood staring at Spike for another minute before heading towards the plane for the final boarding call. He looked over his shoulder on the catwalk and nodded his head at Spike who stood with his arms crossed watching his Grandsire mope way.

Spike waited until he saw the plane roll onto the runway and take off into the lightening sky. He wondered how long it would take for him to get up his courage to go to Buffy and what she’d say once he did. He would have several hours to contemplate it because the sun was well and truly rising in that annoyingly bright way it seemed to do every time he was in Italy. He headed back down the concourse to the cozy bar he’d spotted on the way.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Buffy took off her sandals and wandered down the Focene Beach. It was one of her favorite spots near Rome, reminding her of the beaches of California. She could almost pretend she was home. Kicking her feet as she walked, she absentmindedly noted the lengthening of her shadow, heralding the sunrise. She kept thinking she was imagining things, but it felt so real, her heart was telling her that Spike was alive. How that could be, she didn’t know, but she knew she had to find answers. She knelt in the soft sand, tears pricked her eyes and fell unheeded before she reached up and wiped them away. The roar of a plane taking off from nearby Leonardo Da Vinci airport caught her attention and she shielded her eyes from the rising sun as she watched it rise into the stratosphere making its way across the ocean. 

She needed to see Angel. He worked for that crazy law firm in LA. She would go there and ask him about Spike. Even if he didn’t know anything, he would help her find out what this nagging feeling was, she was sure of it. Rather than calling him first, she decided to just hop on a plane and go. Making her way back to her apartment, she packed a bag and headed for the airport.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

GAH! What was she thinking? International flights were SUCH a pain! It had taken her several hours to find something going to the states that didn’t have at least 3 layovers. She’d gotten lucky and a last minute cancellation put her on a nonstop flight to LA. Thirteen hours in a plane would make her stir crazy, but it was the best option. Her flight was due to leave in two hours so she meandered down the concourse towards her gate wondering just how many drinks she’d need to keep her brains from turning into mushy cave Buffy, but still be enough so that she’d fall asleep minutes into the flight, hopefully shortening the torture by several hours.

She stepped into a dimly lit bar near her gate and slumped into a chair in a table in the far corner hoping she wore a cloak of invisibility to anyone except the bringer of alcoholic beverages. She was NOT in the mood to talk to strangers, especially strangers of the male variety. She looked over the wine list trying to decide which one to order. She dropped the list, giggling to herself, who was she kidding, the only thing she knew about wine was that it came in colors; red, white and sometimes pink, she’d just take whatever was recommended once someone came to take her order.

Spike groaned and dropped his head down on the arm he had leaning against the bar 

“Not this bloody tune.” He mumbled.

“Something against Norah Jones?” the bartender said as he cleared away glasses and wiped down the bar.

“This song makes me wanna dust myself.” He said looking up with weary eyes.

The bartender leaned in and said with sincerity. “You know, it’s none of my business, but whatever it is, can’t be as bad as all that.”

“Oh mate, you have no idea…..” Suddenly, Spike cocked his head to the side listening intently.

“See, the song’s good, got a hopeful ring to it if you listen hard enough.” quipped the man behind the counter.

“Not the song….somethin’.....” the tingling sensation running down his spine turned into a deep thrumming pulse. He stood up and looked around the bar.

There in the corner, blonde hair hiding her face, he knew it was her. He could feel it. She was here. Buffy was here. How? Why? Before he could question the Powers that Be or lose his nerve, he walked over to the table where she was thumbing a small piece of leather between her fingers, smoothing it out on the table, picking it back up again. Spike tilted his head and furrowed his brow. Was that part of his old duster? How did she get that, and what did it mean that she was caressing it like an old friend? 

Buffy didn’t look up when she felt the man approach. “I’ll have whatever’s good, red or white, doesn’t matter.” 

A small smile quirked on the side of Spike’s mouth, “I always choose red myself.”

Her eyes shot up at the sound of his voice. She held her breath and blinked. Was this real or did the bartender look and sound exactly like Spike? Was she conjuring his image from her mind now? She shook her head and looked up again. 

You’ll be on my mind….forever…..

Something has to make you run

Don’t know why I didn’t come

The sweet melancholy notes of the song floated around them as they stared at each other. 

“Sp..Spike?” Buffy said in a small, soft voice filled with fear and hope.

“Yes. I’m sorry…. I ….” His voice broke as he watched tears fill her eyes and fall to the table.

“Is this? Are you…..real?” she asked.

“It’s me. I….Buffy….” his hands reached for hers and gently held them as tears spilled down his cheeks. 

“You have SO much explaining to do Mr.” Buffy laughed through her tears as she stood and wrapped her arms around him. He froze for half a heartbeat, then wrapped his own arms around her in a crushing embrace, lifting her up and spinning her around, both of them laughing and crying and babbling incoherently. 

“You first!” Buffy said, wiping her sparkling eyes and smiling. 

“Anything you say baby, but let’s get out of here.” Spike agreed, kissing the top of her head and taking her hand in his as they walked out of the bar.

Whistler pulled a cloth from his back pocket as he went to wipe off the table Buffy had briefly occupied, smiling to himself, he quietly pocketed the small piece of leather she’d left on the table.

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired to write this short little fic after hearing the Norah Jones song the title is named for. Go have a listen.


End file.
